


an email to the dearly departed

by fiveroundsrapid



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 14:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21137936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveroundsrapid/pseuds/fiveroundsrapid
Summary: Serena sometimes sends Bernie emails.





	an email to the dearly departed

Dearest Bernie,

I remember the last time I wrote to you. Well, I’m not going to send this one. I know I’d not get a reply back, as you’re currently on a plane right now. Or at least, your body is. So there’s no hope there, but it’s days like this that I really wish I had you. Silly, I know, talking to the dead, but it helped with Ellie, you know that. So indulge me sending you an email, or drafting one, every so often.

I’ve been back at work again this week. Cameron is bearing up, but you know the hospital; it never rains but it pours. He’ll be the one to collect you. I’ve offered to be there, and I will, but truly, I don’t think I could bear it. Everyone looking at me with pity. I get enough of that on the ward, and I’m still not sure that I totally deserve it. I loved you, but I let you go. But I’ll be there for Cameron, and for Charlotte, if she needs it, I promise you that. I know you’d do the same. You  _ would  _ have done the same. 

Ric’s ill, Bernie. The stupid, stubborn, infuriating man has got a brain tumour. He’s known for weeks, apparently, and now he wants to undergo some complicated and very risky procedure to try and get rid of it. One that might kill him. I’m not sure I could lose someone else I care about. I seem to be making a habit of it. Arthur, Elinor, Jasmine. You. I can’t lose someone else I love. I told him to not go through with it. Take the drugs, retire, live a relatively normal life for the rest of the time he’s got. Of course, that got shot down in flames. You’d likely be the same. Cut from the same cloth. Or maybe you’d be able to talk some sense into him?

I kept trying to think about what you would do if you were here. You’d probably tell me that Ric is a fighter. That’s true, he is. You’d probably point out that Max is considered to be a notable surgeon and if anyone can do it, she can. I suppose that’s probably true, though I barely know the woman. Then you’d likely end by saying: “At least it’s not Guy Self.” That would have made me laugh. But it’s a pretty poor joke when you tell it to yourself over a midnight glass of Shiraz. (Don’t give me that look, it was after a night shift.)

But I’m scared, Bernie. I wish you were here. I wish I’d never let you go back overseas. I wish I’d held you down, because at least then you’d be safe, and selfishly, I wouldn’t be alone. Jason’s lovely, but I can’t talk to him about this. He’s got his own things to be dealing with.

If wishes were horses, hm?

I’m still waiting for it all to feel real. Of course, I know it is real, but I keep thinking it’s a dream, and I’ll wake up. Trouble is, it’s my dreams that are hurting me. I dream of you, Bernie. When I do sleep, it’s always you. I can’t rely on my old resources. The lavender pillows just remind me of you. The last time I mourned, I had you. Now I don’t.

Anyway, I promise you, I’m alright, really. It’s not like Elinor. I took a few weeks off. I’ve cried. I’ve mourned you. Cameron says he’s not going through with another funeral now we have you back. Just a private burial, I thought you’d prefer that rather than all the pomp and circumstance. And no one wants to have a rerun of that funeral. Sorry. I know I’m supposed to say it was a beautiful send-off. But honestly, it was one of the worst couple of hours of my life! But I’ll not go into that. One thing is for certain: you were very loved.

All my love, always,

Serena


End file.
